Daughters of the Silk Road: A beautiful and epic novel of family, love and the secrets of a Ming Vase (18 page)

M
aria Margret studied
the maiolica bowl that her husband Antonio Corsi had just finished painting. Decorated in shades of vivid yellow, green, orange and blue, its bright colours shone out on that leaden February day. Antonio had been trained by his own father initially, but his talent had been really developed through his work with the famous potter Guido di Savino. Guido had moved from his home in Castel Durante, one of the leading centres of the Italian maiolica movement, to Antwerp some seven years before. Changing his name to Guido Andries, he married a local woman, Margriet Bolleman, and set up the first of several pottery workshops in the town. He and Margriet had five sons, all of whom would go on to be famous potters in their own right. A year or so after Guido had settled in Antwerp, he wrote to his old friend:

T
he people here are rich
, my friend. They yearn for everything that is new and colourful. They have seen the porcelain brought in from the lands of the East, but only the very wealthiest families can afford such marvels. Everyone wishes to use beautiful pieces on their table. If they cannot have porcelain, they will buy maiolica. It will be successful here. Trust me. Make the journey. You will not be disappointed. Together we will be rich
.

A
ntonio
, who had known Guido since they had been young apprentices together, made the journey to Antwerp shortly after receiving the letter. Born in Florence, he had started his apprenticeship in Venice before moving on to Castel Durante, where he met Guido. They were part of a group of potters who were determined to bring their extraordinary talent for creating useful and exquisite lustreware to northern Europe.

Maria Margret van Vaerwye had met Antonio Corso at a supper party given by her elder brother Jacob. She was twenty-one years of age; Antonio was twenty-five. They chatted easily throughout dinner and Maria Margret liked him immediately. He had an earthiness combined with an artistic temperament that she admired. Her experience of men was limited to her father and four brothers – all intelligent businessmen with a strong work ethic and vision, but not creative.

Antonio told her a little of his background. ‘I was apprenticed to a potter in Venice when I was fifteen; I lived there for three years. It is a wonderful place. Have you been there?’

‘No, but I long to go. My grandmother, Maria Haas, was originally from Venice. Her father Niccolò dei Conti was an explorer. He brought Maria back to Venice with my great uncle Daniele many years ago. She is dead now, sadly, but I am proud to carry her name. And I have one or two pieces of pottery that she brought with her from the Middle East and beyond. I could show you, if you like. We also have a beautiful Ming vase that her father brought with him from the lands of further India. I think she must have been a very special person for him to have entrusted it to her.’

Antonio was intrigued at this story of the vase and after dinner, Maria Margret took him to the drawing room where she showed him her collection of pottery.

Their courtship progressed, and the family was delighted when she announced to her father Cornelius that she wished to marry Antonio. They admired him for his energy, talent and enthusiasm. Over the following months, they learned something of his background and upbringing. His father had been integral to the development of maiolica in Italy. He too, had been a famous potter, who had made the journey to Valencia in Spain with a merchant friend, Battista di Goro Bulgarini, and disguised in poor clothes, he had masqueraded as a poor jobbing potter in order to learn the secret of creating lustred pottery. Such pieces had originally been made in the Middle East, where potters had discovered that ceramic glaze could be rendered opaque white by the addition of tin oxide. This white glaze provided a perfect base for painting and the Islamic world had long exploited the technique. The great lustred vases in the Alhambra in Malaga were made in this way, and the Spanish potters were exporting their works to the rest of Europe. Francesco di Marco Datini – the ‘Merchant of Prato’ – had been importing large consignments of lusterware into Florence for affluent families since the early fifteenth century. Even the wealthy Lorenzo de’ Medici of the banking family in Florence had been impressed by a gift of maiolica, describing it in a letter as “excellent and rare” pottery.

Jacob and Pieter liked Antonio well enough and were happy to welcome him to the family. They were now in charge of the family business, and had concentrated on three main imports: pepper and cinnamon from the islands in the Indian Ocean, and Chinese porcelain imported from traders in Portugal who had opened up a sea route to China round the Cape of Good Hope in 1498. Pepper was the most profitable commodity at that time, and Antwerp – with its large port servicing hundreds of ships a day – had a virtual monopoly on its import into northern Europe. As for Chinese porcelain, the brothers sold these pieces to the great noble families of northern Europe and it made them rich. The Chinese had a monopoly on porcelain production at that time; many had tried to recreate the pale, translucent glazed pieces, but without success. And so, they remained the preserve of the wealthy elite.

This marriage now opened up a new and lucrative business opportunity. Maiolica potters needed tin oxide to create the lustred finish on their work. Tin oxide was mined predominantly in Cornwall. Jacob and Peter imported the oxide and distributed it to potters in Antwerp and further afield. Before long, they had the monopoly in the Low Countries, adding to their already considerable fortune. And so the two arms of the family business – the rare and exquisite Chinese porcelain, and the lustreware from Antwerp – became inextricably entwined.

Antonio’s workshop in Antwerp employed twelve staff. He was the foreman; beneath him were two throwers and three experienced painters, although Antonio also decorated pieces for special clients. Two kiln men made up the experienced staff, and beneath them were four apprentices, learning the various techniques. They produced many household items such as bowls, vases and plates, but also, increasingly, tiles, which the population of Antwerp requested to decorate their fireplaces and floors. They were not only attractive, but the tidy housewives of Flanders found them easy to keep clean.

Together, Antonio and Guido’s fame spread far and wide. Guido was commissioned to provide floor tiles for a large house in England called ‘The Vyne’ and another set for a Cistercian Abbey in Flanders. Antonio produced a range of distinctive blue and white maiolica jars, which were quickly adopted by the surrounding hospitals and pharmacies for the storage of medicines. Each jar was hand-painted and labelled with the contents: Camphor for fevers, and cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves for digestion. One day, as she sat checking the ledgers for the business, Maria Margret was delighted to see a large order for pharmacy jars for the hospital of St John in Bruges, the hospital of which her grandmother had been patron. Her Aunt Caterina had now taken on that role and had ordered the jars for the hospital’s new pharmacy.

Guido and Antonio’s workshops were in Kammenstraat. This street soon developed a reputation and other well-known potters such as Jan Bogaerts and the Dmoelenyser workshop set up alongside them.

Maria Margret and Antonio’s business went from strength to strength. Antonio bought the houses on either side of his workshop and he gradually created a large and comfortable family home around his workplace. Maria Margret took charge of the decoration. There were tiled floors, of course, and blue and white tiles in the fireplaces. The drawing room was arranged in the latest fashion, with costly tapestries on the walls and Turkish carpets draped over the large oak tables. The house was built around a central courtyard where Maria indulged her newly acquired passion for gardening. A small knot garden was created with box-edged flower and herb beds intersected by narrow brick paths inset with tiles. She would often sit there on a sunny day, watching the children play. They had five children in all – three boys and two girls.

As they grew, it became clear that the boys would follow their father into the business. Their eldest son, Cornelius, was a gifted painter. He would go on to be much feted, and travelled throughout his life to Spain, where he taught painting technique to Spanish potters, and on several occasions worked for the King of Spain. Their second son, Joseph, remained in Antwerp, and worked with his father. Their third son, Andries, moved to Delft, where he began to develop the maiolica business, specialising in blue and white decorative techniques. Maria Margret’s two daughters both married merchants; her eldest daughter Beatrice, named after her mother’s aunt, went on to marry one of Pieter’s sons, Thomas van Vaerwye.

Beatrice had known Thomas all her life. Her parents’ home and workshop was only four streets away from Pieter Van Vaerwye’s large and distinguished home. He lived next door to his brother Jacob. The three families spent a great deal of time together; birthdays and holidays were always spent in the one another’s company. It was fortunate that they all lived in large houses with grand drawing rooms where the young people could dance and mix easily. At least once a month, there was a party of some kind – a birthday, or a christening, or, as the children grew up, an engagement or wedding.

Beatrice had always liked Thomas. He was different from his brothers and sisters. They were all very outgoing and liked to play practical jokes on one another; they appeared to find life endlessly amusing. Thomas was quieter and a little shy. He was also the most academic of Pieter’s five children. It was thought that he had inherited his intelligence from Pieter’s younger brother Henryk, who was a Professor of Philosophy at the Catholic University of Leuven; he worked alongside the humanist Desiderius Erasmus, who went on to found the Collegium Trilingue at the University for the study of Hebrew, Latin, and Greek.

Beatrice and Thomas sought each other out at these family gatherings. They were often to be found huddled together in deep conversation. Beatrice, too, was a thoughtful girl. She was well read, artistic and musical. She had inherited her great grandmother Maria’s turquoise eyes and dark hair. She was considered a beauty in Antwerp and many young men were disappointed when her engagement to Thomas was announced.

It was not uncommon for first cousins to marry at that time, and permission was happily given on both sides of the family. It would unite them even further, bringing the importers of porcelain and the maiolica potters into close alliance.

Thomas had no skills as a potter; he was an intellectual, not an artisan. His father and uncle had planned that he should take over the family import business. He had a fine mathematical brain and would be more than capable of managing the accounts. The work held little interest for him, but he could see that his future had been mapped out. A gentle young man, he did not argue or protest. He knew that it would be pointless. He would have preferred an academic life like his uncle’s, but with a young wife to support, he followed his father Pieter into the import and export trade.

Beatrice’s mother made her a gift of the Ming vase on her wedding day.

‘It has been handed down through the generations, Beatrice, from mother to daughter. I was given it on the eve of my wedding,’ said Maria Margret. ‘My mother was given the vase by her mother. You are the fourth in line to inherit it. I hope it brings you good luck; that is the myth that surrounds it. The dragon is the symbol of good luck in China, and he has been lucky for me.’

The young couple settled into their home in Antwerp, close to the central market and cathedral.They were happy enough. The house was large and there was a garden where Beatrice liked to sit on sunny days. Her husband was attentive and gentle. He worked hard and learned the family business. He did not relish the prospect of travelling, but one of his brothers took on that role. What Thomas excelled at was strategic thinking; he could spot gaps in the market; he understood how the political situation affected his business; he was diplomatic and people trusted him; he made sound decisions and the business thrived.

Beatrice quickly became pregnant. But she lost two children before their son, Heinrich, was born weighing just a few pounds. He cried so lustily at his birth that Beatrice was confident he would survive.

Beatrice had another son and then, after the loss of a daughter, to hear joy she gave birth to a second daughter. They named her Clara. She was small and dainty, with dark hair and her mother’s bright blue eyes.

Their business went from strength to strength. Antwerp was the centre of international trade at that time and the family’s wealth grew. Thomas traded with merchants from Portugal and Spain, importing porcelain, of course, but also sugar from Spanish and Portuguese plantations in South America and the Indies. Created on the backs of slave labour transported from Africa like heads of cattle, each man chained and lying head to toe with the next as if in coffins, they were taken to the sugar plantations in Brazil and the Indies. Sugar became the most significant commodity brought into the port of Antwerp and helped to make it the most important port in northern Europe. From Antwerp, the sugar was transported to sugar refineries in Germany, primarily in Cologne.

Antwerp, along with the rest of the cities of the Low Countries, was under the control of King Philip of Spain. He demanded high taxes from the wealthy merchants and over time they became impatient and eager to throw off the yoke of the Hapsburg Empire. Merchants like Thomas were educated and intelligent. They had vast wealth, and their knowledge of the world through trade had given them a profound insight into other cultures. Into this mix came the protestant religion, fanned out from Germany and Switzerland by Martin Luther and John Calvin. Appalled by the Roman Catholic Church’s increasingly corrupt practices such as the sale of indulgences, these men were determined to bring the Christian faith back to its origins. With its emphasis on cleanliness, modesty, frugality and hard work, the Protestant faith began to take a foothold in the Netherlands, and Thomas was one of its earliest devotees. It appealed to his puritanical and intellectual nature. The idea that his relationship with God required the intercession of a priest had always irked him. He would rather make his own peace with God. He did not need absolution, especially one granted by a priest who might be corrupt.